


To those who wait

by Tashilover



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M, References To Pedophilia, Soul Bond, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only one in ten thousand find their soul mate.</p><p> </p><p>Based off a prompt in the CP meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To those who wait

The universe had an evil sense of humor. That was the only explanation for it. Why else would it set up such a system where a person can find the other half of their soul, but giving them absolutely NO guarantee they'll find them?

Only one in ten thousand find their soul mate. One in ten thousand. Even if they do find them, there was also no guarantee they would be together.

They could be dead. Married. Too young. Too old. Already in a relationship. Not in the same country. Or worse, they could be in one of those 'free will' groups which proclaimed their lives were dictated by their own actions, not by the actions of the universe. If one of them found their soul mate, they would reject them just to prove that point.

Doulgas sometimes thought about joining that group. Because every year that passed, more of his heart turned to dust.

 

* * *

 

It was common practice for people to wear gloves out in public. This made things easier when it came to shaking hands or accidental touches. Some never wore gloves. This indicated they already found their soul mate or were desperately looking for them. Either way, it was not polite to ask.

Carolyn always wore her gloves, beautiful shade of purple they were. In the MJN office, hanging on the wall were framed photographs, most of them of Carolyn in various stages of her life. In nearly every single picture she was glove-less. Judging from the broken timeline of the photos, Carolyn didn't start wearing her gloves until Arthur was fifteen. What happened then, was a story Douglas would never know.

Arthur only wore his gloves when he remembered to wear them. When he realised he has unintentionally gone glove-less, he improvised. He has been known to serve coffee while wearing oven mitts.

Douglas wore gloves with breathable material and rubber grips on the fingers. He disliked having to take his gloves on and off when driving his Lexus or GERTI, so he splurged the extra pounds to buy himself some very nice, practical gloves.

The only person who did not wear gloves was Martin. He has never said if he was looking for his soulmate or if he had found him/her. Douglas theorized he has, as most soul-searchers always looked annoyed when the person they're shaking hands with refused to take off their gloves.

When Martin shook hands, he never glanced down.

Doulgas, like any other polite English man, kept his questions to himself. Though curiosity  _burned_  him, gnawed at him, he would never dare bring up the subject. He knew what they said about cats and curiosity.

Arthur apparently has never heard that phrase. "Skipper, when are we going to meet your soul mate?"

Good thing they were in the portacabin. Had Arthur said that in a crowded store, every head would be turned their way. Even Douglas, who never considered himself to be prudish, gaped.

Martin snorted into his tea. "Arthur! That is not really an appropriate question!"

"Oh, come on!" Arthur whined. "I've been seeing you go glove-less for the past two years and you have never told us who he or she is! Tellllllllll us!"

"I can't!" And when Arthur opened his mouth to protest, Martin added, "Because I don't know who he is."

"So you're searching?" Douglas inquired, raising his eyebrow. Now that the topic has been brought up and Martin seemed willing to talk, he might as well ask.

Martin shook his head. He rubbed his hands together, staring at them with a small, sad smile on his lips. "It was an accident, the way we met. I bumped into him. Barely had a chance to apologize before we were seperated. I'd like to think I will meet him again one day, but so far... nothing."

It was a common story among those who have found and lost their soul mates. Douglas once heard a story about a young Japanese couple who brushed against each other during morning rush. They desperately tried to find each other but were pushed back by the commuting crowd and were lost as they were forced onto different trains. They didn't see each other again for five years.

Arthur hugged Martin, holding him until it became uncomfortable. "Thank you, Arthur," Martin murmured, pulling away after a minute. "What about you two? May I ask if you found... yours?"

Arthur wiggled his gloved fingers. "Still looking."

Martin turned to Douglas.

Douglas went back to his tea. "Don't care."

Martin flinched. It may have been due to Douglas's tone, or he was just reminded how rude his question was. Or maybe he understood the implication of Douglas' answer, that Douglas didn't believe in soul mates.

Either way, with his cheeks burning red, Martin went back to sipping his tea. Arthur looked guilty for ever bringing the subject up. He walked out of the portacabin, declaring quietly about searching out his mother.

The truth was, Douglas did not believe in that mumbo-jumbo stuff about soul mates was just a fragment of the human mind. He knew soul mates were real. Because he found his over twenty years ago.

Damn it all to hell..

 

* * *

 

Douglas was seriously beginning to rethink his choice of study. Not that medicine was too far out of his reach or he was too lazy to achieve such a position, but because studying medicine was...  _boring_.

So much so, he unintentionally started hanging out more and more at the park than at the library just to avoid how much studying he did. It was no wonder medical students always looked like zombies.

To his left, near the playground, a group of children ran around aimlessly, screaming like they were being murdered. Douglas watched with amusement, especially at one child who kept trying to fly off the slide by flapping his arms really really hard. The boy kept face-planting into the dirt. Despite his setbacks, he continued trying.

Douglas sighed, readjusted his gloves, and leaned back against the bench he sat on. It was such a warm, sunny day, he felt wonderfully lazy and did not wish to move.

"Douglas!"

Crap, Douglas mentally hissed to himself. One of his study buddies was coming towards him, angrily waving him over. Douglas had promised him that he'll help him study, instead chose to hang out by the playground.

Time for an escape route. Pretending he didn't see him, Douglas quickly rose to his feet and went in the direction of the kids. He heard his name being called out again and he picked up his pace.

He dodged under the slide, inteading to just run for it, when the little flying boy decided to use him as a landing strip. "OOF!"

The boy landed half on his shoulders, the rest of his body askwed over his face and upper back. Douglas desperatly tried to keep his balance as little fingernails cut into his face and heels dug into his shoulderblades. He did his best to angle his body in way he wouldn't crush the boy as he fell and he toppled over, landing painfully on his knees.

The boy, with his poor grip, slid off him. All Douglas saw was a head full of red hair and shocked eyes before the boy scrambled to his feet, running away to avoid a confrontation.

Douglas was too stunned to move.

At first he didn't understand. Having a child jump on him would certainly shock anyone, but he felt numb. His heart was beating particuarly too fast.

Something just clicked inside of him, like a light switch. Suddenly the world was bright and vibrant and that hole, that constant hole that was in everyone's chest, slowly filled. In a matter of seconds, Douglas' soul warmed inside of him, happy and complete for the first time in his life.

Was that...? Was that boy...?

Douglas lifted his head up to search for the child. He was nowhere in sight.

 

* * *

 

Though the law gave plenty of special leeway to soul mates, it was still rather unclear about those who had a huge age gap between them. There were way too many perverts who tried to use the soul mate excuse to get themselves alone with a child.

It that who Douglas was? A pervert?

The universe was a cruel mistress if she thought the other half of Douglas' soul was none other than a  _child_. He may be open to new kinky sex styles, but for  _fuck's sake_  he was not a goddamn paedophile.

It made him sick just thinking about it.

In the end, Douglas bought himself a pair of thick gloves and resolved to never think about it again. If he had to live the rest of his life unhappy and feeling incomplete, so be it. Universe and fate be damned.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"What did he look like?"

Martin jerked up from the unexpected question. After spilling coffee on himself in the portacabin, Martin was bent over the sink washing his hands when Douglas asked. Douglas took this opportunity to ask when neither Arthur or Carolyn were around.

Martin blushed. "Oh, um... he's older than me."

Douglas didn't mean to ask such a personal question. Ever since Martin admitted he had found his soul mate, Douglas' curiosity got the best of him. It wasn't often people found their soul mates and were willing to share that story with others. But Martin didn't seem to mind. "Really?" Douglas asked. "How old?"

"About... twenty years."

Suddenly Douglas felt uncomfortable. Memories of his own, much younger soul mate swirled around his head. His stomach clenched in response. "I apologize for asking," Douglas said, suddenly wanting out on this conversation. "That was rude of me."

Martin shook his head. "No, it's fine. I don't mind. The thing is, I don't think I'll ever see him again. And it's not because of the age gap, but because... something tells me he doesn't want me."

"Maybe it  _is_  because of the age gap. Maybe he feels uncomfortable knowing his soul mate is twenty years younger than him."

"But I am not a child anymore!" Martin hissed, grabbing a paper towel to dry his hands. "Besides, who's to say a soul mate  _has_  to engage in sex? There are plenty of stories out there of soul mates who were friends, relatives and teachers!"

"There are exceptions to the rule," Douglas agreed solmenly. "But not enough. Even if you said your relationship was platonic, it's more likely people would view your partnership as uneven. Disturbing."

Martin jerked his face at him, his mouth gaping. "W-w-what? How dare you- I can't... why does this matter to you? Why does this interest you?"

"It doesn't," Douglas snapped. It was time to leave. "I'm sorry I asked-"

"I love him, Douglas."

A shudder ran through him. Of course it was assumed soul mates were supposed to love each other, but there were so many stories contradicting that. The newspapers constantly ran articles of soul mates killing each other, either out of anger or pettiness. Just because the universe intended this person to be your other half, doesn't mean they earned the right.

"It's stupid, I know," Martin continued. "I don't even know his name, so how can I say I love him? You don't understand, Douglas, you've been married three times. You had someone want you enough to declare their life to you. I've never had that, not even close. I just want to meet him, talk to him, be his friend. We don't have to go any further than that. I just... want to know why the universe thought he was my match."

And there was the root of Martin's problem. Without wearing his gloves, when people saw him in the street, they assumed he was already taken. If Martin simply wore his gloves, he would probably get more dates, probably be married now with a few kids. Too many people wasted their lives waiting on fate. Martin was wasting his on a man who didn't want him back.

It was time for him to grow up. "You should move on."

Martin flinched. It was obvious this wasn't the first time this was said to him.

Douglas kept going. "You're not going to be happy chasing something that's not there. Forget him, get yourself some gloves and find someone else. Other people have done it."

"Other people have not found their soul mate!"

At that point, Douglas just snapped. Martin's situation was reminding Douglas way too much of his own soul mate and it angered him how Martin was just not getting it.

Douglas grabbed at one of his own gloves, ripped off the velcro and threw it down. "Stop acting like you're the only in the world who found their other half!" At this revelation, Martin's eyes go wide. "There's a reason why the universe is called a Cruel Mistress. I found my soul mate, Martin, but I lost him immediately after. And I can't be spending the rest of my life wandering around, thinking and wishing what might have been. That's not a way to live. If you were to ever take any of my advice, take this: let him go and move on with your life."

Martin swung at him.

Martin was not a fighter and it was obvious from the way the punch was thrown. Douglas evaded him easily and brought up his hand to catch that ill-formed fist.

The touch of a soul mate differs from person to person. Some people have described the touch as a shot of electricity or sudden pleasure. Others have described it as a familiar feeling, like a long lost precious memory from childhood.

For Douglas, the moment he touched Martin's ungloved fist, he  _knew_  Martin was his other half. He knew it like he knew the sun was going to rise tomorrow. There was no question about it.

The momentum of the swing was still there, forcing them both hold on to each other as they stumbled. Douglas held on to Martin, blinking wildly at this realization. Something in his mind clicked and he wretched his hands away, letting Martin nearly fall on his own face. "No..." said Douglas, backing away slowly. "It can't be..."

Martin stared at his hand like he'd never seen it before. He looked up at Douglas, hope springing to eyes. With his arm outreached, he stepped forward.

"Don't-" Douglas said, stepping back. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, blood roaring in his ears. "Stay back."

"Douglas..."

And then Douglas did the most un-Douglas thing ever: he turned and ran.

A part of him knew this was childish and stupid and at the moment, he didn't care. Finding his other half was shattering, but finding him twice was like getting a big fat middle finger from the universe. He swore he could hear the gods laughing at him.

So he ran, with one hand ungloved, pushing his way past Arthur and Carolyn. He had no destination to go to, he just felt the need to  _hide_.

Unfortunately, he was old. His knees were old. Even when he was a young man, his blood pressure was always too high. Douglas enjoyed the occasional walk, but running was something he left in his younger days. By the time he passed Gerti in the hanger, his knees ached and his sides pinched. Martin, young and fit, caught up to him easily.

"Douglas!"

Huffing, Douglas swung around, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Don't come near me!"

Martin slowed, but kept inching his way towards him. "I don't understand. Why are you doing this?"

 _Why_  was he doing this? He had no idea why he ran. Had no idea why he wanted to keep running. Maybe after two decades of avoiding this subject, having it thrown in his face like this was too much to take in. "Just... just give me some time to think about this."

"Time?" Martin repeated. Tears were streaming down his face. He got closer and closer with each step. "We've been separated for twenty years! There's been enough time!"

Too many things were happening entirely too fast. Douglas looked behind him, thinking about taking off again. He jumped as Martin's hands curled around his face, turning his head back towards him.

"Stop running," Martin begged, his voice thick with tears. "Please, stop running."

Martin's hands were warm and Douglas' soul sang from the mere touch. Without thinking, he lowered his head, expecting to be kissed.

Martin did not kiss him. Instead he shifted his arms around Douglas, pulling him into a hug and sobbed into his chest. "I finally found you," he said, muffled. Happy. "I can't believe after all this time, I finally found you."

Douglas found he couldn't do anything else but hug back.

 

* * *

 

"So what do we do now?"

Douglas rubbed his gloveless hands together. He threw them out, now that he no longer needed them. "Take it a day at a time, I guess."

"I mean what I said, Douglas. I don't need anymore than this. If you don't want to take it any further, I'll be fine. I'm just happy to know."

Douglas could see Martin really did mean it. Twenty years of searching and he was content with just knowing. Maybe that was all people needed. To know someone else was out there, looking for them too.

Silently, Douglas reached over and took Martin's hand in his.

It felt warm.


End file.
